


The Red Knight

by VictoriaAGrey



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Case Fic, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Isolation, Love Confessions, M/M, Murder Mystery, Murder Mystery Dinner, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaAGrey/pseuds/VictoriaAGrey
Summary: While in Los Angeles giving a presentation about Five-0, Steve and Danny decide to attend a murder mystery dinner for fun. The dinner dissolves into chaos when one of the attendees is found dead and all lines of communication have been cut. Throughout the night, a sinister plot starts to unfold that reveals no one is safe and everyone is a suspect.///Faithful to the show through 8x10///





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is the result of at least a year of plotting, ruminating, self-doubting, and then finally just writing the damn thing. a big thank you to the bang for giving me the courage to finally post this beast.
> 
> my eternal gratitude belongs to [ThatwasJustaDream](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream) ([thatwasjustadreamm](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream) on tumblr) for creating edits and a cover for this story. I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate you and your work, babe. thank you <333

After popping the final bite of a chocolate-drizzled croissant in his mouth, an indulgence he would normally hesitate about partaking in, Steve took a seat on the couch by the window overlooking the streets of Los Angeles. The sun was hanging bright in the sky, unhindered by clouds or fog, and the weather forecast said to expect a high of 82 degrees with 10% humidity. Steve had smiled at that; Hawaii was hard-pressed to ever get a day that agreeable and yet they were commonplace in southern California. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Picking up the conference schedule and brochures from the coffee table, Steve started flipping through them to make sure he was still satisfied with the schedule he planned. It was the first full day of presentations at the 125th annual International Association of Chiefs of Police conference and it was also the first year he and Danny were able to attend. They'd been invited every year after Five-0's first, but this was the first time they were able to commit to not only go, but give a presentation on what immunity and means enabled them to do, as well as its limitations. They were being advertised as one of the convention's highlights, giving what was supposedly a highly anticipated one hour presentation followed by a thirty minute Q&A session in a hall seating upwards of 2,000 fellow law enforcement officials. The thought made his skin buzz pleasantly with nerves.

Once Danny was finished getting ready, they would head over to the LA Convention Center and go over everything one more time to make sure they were good to go. After their presentation, they had half an hour to mingle with the attendees of their presentation before they had to make their way over to another hall for a presentation on the dangers of the increasing militarization of local police forces. An hour and fifteen minutes was then allotted for them to roam the exhibit halls before the lunch banquet; after which, they were going to attend a presentation on advancements in DNA collection and analysis. It was only after that last presentation when their schedule got hazy.

While planning the trip, Danny said he wanted to hunt down Marlon Brando's star on the Walk of Fame and finish the evening with dinner at Roscoe's, a tip of the hat to Toast, whereas Steve wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier and ride the iconic Ferris wheel. They had agreed to attend the Dodgers game Saturday night, the Chargers game Sunday night, and spend most of Monday at Six Flags Magic Mountain riding roller coasters until they needed to leave for the airport, but for some reason they couldn't agree on what to do with their first free night since arriving. Steve insisted that if they time managed properly they could do everything they wanted to, but Danny said he didn't want Steve rushing him. If there was a compromise to be found, they hadn't found it yet.

Once again turning to the brochures, Steve's attention was caught by one advertising an exclusive murder mystery dinner for cops attending the conference. It was being hosted at a B&B just outside of Sierra Madre called Hollingsworth Hall, a reputed Queen Anne architectural marvel which was only about a thirty minute drive from the convention center. For only $75, they could participate in the dinner, take a room for the night, and be served a home-cooked breakfast in the morning. The longer Steve thought about it, the better it sounded. It would give him and Danny an opportunity to network with officers from around the world, they could put their detective skills to the test for fun, and it would solve the problem of what they did for the night. Neither would get what they originally wanted, but they would both be happy with the outcome. That sounded like a win to Steve.

Taking the brochure for the dinner, Steve walked over to the bathroom and walked in without knocking.

"Hey, Danny -"

"Let me guess," Danny interrupted as he buttoned up his shirt. "You were the kid who walked in on his parents in a compromising position."

Having successfully blocked the memory for years, Steve nearly shuddered at the reminder. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

Steve saw a smirk tug at Danny's lips in the mirror. "Lucky guess. What's up?"

Choosing to drop the subject, he presented his case, hoping Danny would go for it and not keep insisting on doing the Walk of Fame when something better presented itself.

"I was going through the brochures for the conference and I found something interesting." Steve held up the brochure between two fingers and then set it down on the granite countertop in front of Danny. "Some place called Hollingsworth Hall is hosting a murder mystery dinner for cops attending the conference. I think it sounds like fun and it gives us something to do tonight."

Danny turned off the silenced TV built into the mirror and picked up the brochure, quickly looking it over. "We solve murders for a living and you want to do it for fun now?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Come on. A fancy dinner in a mansion where we get to outsmart other cops at their own game? How does that not sound awesome?"

"Leave it to you to turn it into a competition."

"Of course it's a competition! Look." Steve leaned in and pointed at the murder mystery's description. "The winners don't get murdered."

Danny looked up at him with a dry expression, but Steve could see the amusement in the corners of his eyes.

"Fine, we'll go to the dinner," Danny relented with a wave of his hand. He picked up his blue tie from the countertop and started knotting it around his neck. "You wanting to do the overnight?"

"I don't see why we shouldn't. It's included in the price and if we take a change of clothes with us, we'll be back in time tomorrow for the conference."

"And what about this oh-so-expensive room Governor Mahoe was gracious enough to approve taxpayer dollars for?"

"Okay, one," Steve said, lifting his index finger, "this wasn't my idea. She insisted on covering for the room as a government expense. And it's not like she was going to put us up in some rinky dink hotel either. We're her crown jewels. Two," he continued, now lifting his middle finger, "even if she was willing to put us up in some rinky dink hotel, nothing else was available within twenty miles of the convention center. We booked too late and the only places that were left were places like this. And three," he said, absolute judgement passing through his eyes as he lifted his ring finger, "I didn't hear you complaining last night when you saw Halle Berry in the lobby."

Danny's look of embarrassment gave way to incredulity. "'Rinky dink?' I'm sorry, how old are you again? 41 or 81?"

Steve lowered all his fingers except for his middle, making Danny chuckle.

"You need to get over your aging issues, buddy, lest you become that guy who turns 50 and buys a Corvette and unwittingly becomes a sugar daddy to a twenty-something former model who may or may not have once appeared in Cosmo."

Not even knowing where to start with his rebuttal, Steve started with the obvious. "Who the fuck uses 'lest' anymore?"

"Guys whose best friends unironically use 'rinky dink,' apparently." Danny waved his hand over the light sensor to turn the bathroom lights off and held out the brochure, Steve snatching it from his grasp. "Let's go, Superman."

After grabbing his suit jacket and the suitcases they were using to transport all their presentation supplies, Steve followed Danny out the door to make the ten minute trek to the convention center. Once they arrived, he handed the suitcases over to convention aides who got started placing the handouts on each of the chairs occupying the hall for the attendees. As Steve rehearsed the presentation one more time with Danny and watched the aides work, the pleasant nerves buzzing through him earlier took on a more jagged edge, the sinking sensation in his gut unnervingly reminiscent of the feeling that made him drop out of his high school talent show and not pick up a guitar again for over 20 years.

Five-0 was his life, what he would be remembered for, and he felt increasingly like the presentation wasn't an informational speech, but a defense of his work, like he had to justify his actions. Steve knew his methods were sometimes unorthodox, even illegal by normal standards, but he was always doing it for the greater good. The ends justified the means. He wasn't proud of every action he'd taken, but he owned all of them. He was willing to take on the burdens of what he had done and would keep on doing if it made Hawaii safer for everyone, especially those he loved. There was no reason he should have to justify himself to this room full of fucking -

"Earth to Steve, come in Steve."

Steve swatted away the hand Danny was waving in front of his face. "What do you want?"

"I was wanting you to continue the presentation, but I'm thinking that's going to have to go on the back burner for now." Danny tapped the back of his hand, Steve realizing only then that he was clinching his hands on the lectern. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Danny sighed. "We don't have time to play Make the Stoic SEAL Talk. What's going on? You're sweating and pale as a sheet. You look like you've seen a ghost." As if having a light-bulb moment, Danny suddenly looked understanding. "Oh, I get it. It's the stage fright again, isn't it? Like the talent show."

Refusing to acknowledge that he was on the right path, Steve looked away from Danny and out into the hall at large.

"Look, you don't have to give the presentation, I'll take over if you feel like you can't do it, but I think that would be a mistake." Steve felt his arm clinch when Danny's hand came to rest on his forearm, his overly sensitive skin flaring at the touch, but he didn't pull away. "You were just a kid then, overwhelmed by showing the world a piece of your heart, but look at you now. You're a big, badass SEAL who looks fear in the face everyday and tells it to go fuck itself. This isn't you justifying Five-0, or whatever else is running through that rat maze of a brain you have... this is you getting the acknowledgment you deserve. You can do this, I know you can."

Steve finally turned to face Danny, using him as an anchor so he didn't drift away again.

"If nothing else, remember that I'm here making sure you're okay, like I always do. I won't let you fall. Not here, not ever. I promise." The moment hung heavy between them, the world becoming hazy around the edges except for Danny and the feel of his hand resting comfortingly on his arm. It could've gone on until the end of time as far as Steve was concerned, but Danny blinked and looked away, shrugging nonchalantly before looking back at him with a smile that seemed somewhat forced. "Just try not to take that literally. You weigh at least 50 pounds more than me and I don't feel like dying today."

Steve smiled at the jibe, feeling better that he had Danny with him, but the tightness in his chest had only loosened marginally. As if sensing his continued discomfort, Danny extended a hand, as if to rest it over his heart. Steve did flinch away then, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming him almost as much, if not moreso, than the presentation itself.

"What are you doing?"

"A breathing exercise Dr. Shaw taught me after that incident with the elevator," he said, moving his hand once again towards Steve's chest, Steve allowing it this time. "Now put your hand over my heart."

Raising his hand warily, Steve gently laid it over Danny's heart, his fingertips barely grazing the surface of his shirt. Danny gave him an exasperated look before moving his free hand over Steve's and pressing it flat against his chest. If he focused, Steve was sure he could feel the gentle beat of Danny's heart against his palm.

"Now close your eyes and breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

Steve did as he was instructed and mimicked the rise and fall of Danny's chest. The movement proved difficult at first, but then he noticed that his body naturally started aligning itself with Danny's. His breathing became less labored, calming his racing heart, and his stomach stopped twisting itself in knots. The heated feeling of his face started to drain away and as his muscles loosened, he began feeling more like himself. He didn't know how long the exercise lasted, but by the time Danny dropped his hand, his head felt lighter and less confined.

"You feel better?" Danny asked, smiling when Steve nodded his head. "Good, then let's get out of here. We've been through this a million times, once more isn't going to make a difference."

Danny led him backstage and there they waited, both catching up on emails for work on their phones as they heard the sound of people start to fill the hall. Steve could feel himself start to tense again, but it wasn't nearly as paralyzing as it was before and he distracted himself by calling Hollingsworth Hall about the dinner, the receptionist congratulating him on his timing by nabbing the last reservation. He also received a pleasant surprise when Chin texted him saying that, while he still wasn't sure about Kono because she was testifying in court regarding a sex trafficking ring she disbanded, him and Abby could fly down Sunday night to spend the next day with them at Six Flags. When he went back over to Danny and told him the good news, he looked excited, but there was something off about it.

"Alright, I know that look. What happened?"

"Look? What look?" Danny balked, overcompensating by trying to school his features into something more relaxed and falling a mile short. "I don't have a look."

"That's Rachel Annoyance Look #9. You're not mad at her, but she is irritating you somehow. Last time you got that look, she was pressuring you to talk to Grace about the meaning of Melissa staying overnight."

Danny looked impressed and annoyed about it, making Steve smirk.

"That's actually not bad," he acknowledged. "There's something she's wanting me to talk to you about but it's not something we can talk about now. Later."

His tone got the wheels turning in Steve's head. "It's not serious, is it?"

"Not in the way you think, so stop thinking of a thousand and one ways you can blow it up."

Steve was gearing up to retort, but the stage hand came over to inform them that they were on in thirty seconds. The announcement brought his nerves back and he started taking deep breaths to calm himself, but they weren't steady and rhythmic. The feel of Danny's hand on his arm again caught his attention and when he looked at him, Danny took a deep breath and squeezed his arm, signalling that he should copy the motion. Falling into rhythm with Danny was easier the second time and when the stage hand signaled for them to walk onto the stage, Steve answered Danny's questioning look with a nod. He was going to be okay.

Applause greeted their entrance to the stage and Steve felt himself start to relax, the positivity of the room overpowering his doubts, his anxiety transforming into the pleasant buzz he'd had earlier. Danny was standing at the lectern on the other side of the stage and at his nod, Steve thanked their audience and waited until they had quieted down to begin.

"My name is Commander Steve McGarrett," Steve started, the feel of his risen title after the Navy medically discharged him still sitting oddly on his tongue. "And I'm the head of Hawaii's Five-0 task force."

"And I'm Detective Danny Williams, second-in-command of the Five-0 task force."

Their presentation started with an introduction to the meaning of "immunity and means" and the rights it allotted them in their pursuit of criminals, then segued into real world application of those rights with example cases, mostly revolving around the chase and apprehension of Wo Fat. Steve noticed that as the presentation went on, his nerves evaporated and he hit a stride, the easy interplay between him and Danny serving as entertainment for the audience and as a boon for his confidence. When the presentation ended, they were given a standing ovation and Steve shared a smile with Danny at their obvious success.

For the Q&A portion of their presentation, a moderator came in and had those with questions line up behind a mic. First up was a tall, redhead woman who introduced herself as Detachment Commander Tally Holloway with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. A few cheers for the Edmonton Oilers came after her introduction, making her laugh.

"My question is for Detective Williams. Your background is in law enforcement, so you know first-hand how difficult it can be to take a case to court. Have you ever experienced difficulty defending your immunity and means against legal standards and precedents? Entrapment being an example of what I'm talking about."

"First of all, I want to put it out there that I was rooting for the Jersey Devils," he said, causing a mini commotion that quickly turned to laughter at his dismissive shrug. "But, uh, back to your question and the answer's yes, we have faced some legal challenges, but not in regards to entrapment. The legal threshold for entrapment requires proof that we enticed and manipulated the criminal into committing a crime and frankly, we're more in the business of knocking down doors than elaborate schemes. If you're curious though, most of our legal challenges come in regards to search and seizure."

It was sometimes easy to forget that Danny started his career as a cop operating within the confines of legal red tape and oversight. He used to harp on about it nonstop in the early days, but as time passed and he got used to the freedom Five-0 had, it tapered off into nothing. To say Steve was impressed by his answer was an understatement, pride swelling in his chest for his friend and partner.

Next up was _Sargento Primero_ Jose Moreno with the Mexican _Policía Federal_ , a middle-aged man whose pronouncement that LA was almost as nice as Cancun came with cheers.

"My question is for Commander McGarrett. With Five-0's heightened profile, are you not worried about retaliation from cartels and gangs who may see your aggressive tactics as a challenge?"

Steve lamented just how much of a threat that must be to Moreno thanks to Mexico's aggressively expanding drug trade.

"It's no secret that we've faced retaliation in various forms because of criminals and criminal enterprises we've taken down, but cartels and gangs tend to not top the list because when we get on their trail, we don't go for the street-level guys, we go straight for the head. Immunity and means has allowed us to jump over the legal roadblocks they hide behind. We've dismantled the Hawaiian leadership of the Ochoa cartel twice and as they've proven, whatever's left of them focuses on salvaging what's left, not planning retaliation."

The rest of the Q&A session carried on in much the same fashion, officers respectfully asking questions about cases they'd tackled or various legalities they were curious about, him and Danny answering to the best of their abilities. Mingling with the crowd after was useful since it gave them an opportunity to speak with attendees who hadn't been able to ask questions. The lunch banquet and presentations they attended had also been interesting, but by far Steve's favorite part had been the exhibit halls. There were stands showcasing new software and technology, tactical training camps, community outreach programs, first response training, legal consults. If Steve thought of it, it seemed like he could find someone specializing in it. When he came across a whole section of stands dealing exclusively in tactical wear and weaponry, Danny bemoaned having to living through his "wet dream come to life." Steve ignored him and perused the stands, taking business cards and catalogs as he went around so he could place orders when they returned home.

After collecting the left over supplies from their presentation and the feedback cards, Steve and Danny walked the half mile back to the Ritz-Carlton and packed overnight bags, as well as suits for the dinner since it requested semi-formal wear. They quickly left and jumped in the Maserati Steve rented for the trip (because why not?) and started the half hour or so drive up to Sierra Madre. Once they hit the highway, Steve turned to Danny and started the conversation he'd been wanting to have for hours.

"Since we're alone now, are you finally gonna tell me why you're annoyed with Rachel?"

"Yeah, about that," Danny started, shifting in his seat, which for him was a sign of nerves. "Maybe it can wait till later? It's more of a sit down conversation instead of an absentminded driving talk."

"Just because I'm driving doesn't mean I'm not listening," Steve refuted. "And we've had loads of serious conversations on the road. If you don't tell me now, I'm just going to think of worse and worse things it could be and that'll end badly for everyone."

"And here I thought after eight years I hadn't rubbed off on you."

Steve smiled at the observation and waited for him to start.

"Well, um, as you know, Rachel's divorce from Stan recently went through and we got to talking -"

"Oh, god!" Steve interrupted, not bothering to hide his irritation. "You're getting back together, aren't you? Can't I veto this or something?"

Danny laughed, but it was clearly more out of amazed annoyance than anything. "'Veto this!?' Why the hell would you have veto power over my relationships?"

"Because I'm your best friend and I want to save you from a terrible decision."

"You're a fucking piece of work, you know that, Steve? You're a special kinda crazy." Danny pointed at him accusingly, his rising aggravation showing plainly on his face. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I'm not still in love with her before you fucking believe me?"

"You make it sound like I'm the only one! Melissa left your sorry ass because of the same reason."

"So says the guy whose now ex-girlfriend can't even stand the sight of him. Or are you and Lynn back on again? I lost track after the last five or so splits."

Steve had a death grip on the steering wheel to keep himself from opening his mouth and further escalating the argument. They hadn't had a proper argument in awhile and this one reminded him of why. They knew each other so intimately that they knew exactly where to needle the other to cause maximum damage. They didn't need to have long, protracted arguments to lash out and hurt each other; just a few choice words and they could peel back the armor to get to the soft flesh beneath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Danny deflate and run a hand down his face.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry," he said, sincerity dripping from his tone. "I shouldn't have said that. I just... I hate that you still don't believe me when I tell you I'm not in love with her. It makes me feel like you don't trust me."

Steve sent up a silent prayer for their therapist, thankful that her years of service imparted argument de-escalation techniques and how to start frank discussions about their feelings.

"I'm sorry, too. I guess I freaked out because I hate the thought of you two together again. She's burned you - _twice_ \- and I don't want her to get a third chance. I love you and seeing you hurt, hurts me." Steve swallowed around the knot in his throat, knowing he had to continue talking, but still uncomfortable with being so open. He sometimes wondered if he'd ever feel comfortable talking about his feelings. "And I'm sorry I made you feel like I don't trust you. I've never trusted anyone more, you know that."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, I know."

Silence prevailed in the car for several seconds before Steve decided to get them back to the conversation they were attempting to have.

"Okay, so back to before I was a dick..."

They exchanged a small smile, so Steve knew they were okay.

"As I was saying, Rachel and I got to talking since the divorce went through and -." Danny seemed to hesitate over what he had to say next, his lips pursing as he contemplated his words. "It pains me to say this, but Stan has been great throughout this whole thing. Keeping in touch with the kids and all because, even though he's not their father, he loves them and they love him. I think it's really helped the kids with the transition.

"But we got to talking about protections for the kids and, even though he was willing to take on the responsibility, we didn't feel like if something happened to both of us, his move to Tokyo and constant travelling would be good for the them. They'd need stability. They'd need to be with family. So, we were wondering if you would agree to be their legal guardian."

Steve felt overwhelmed by the request, his heart bursting with emotions he couldn't name. He knew they had absolute trust in each other, but this was different. This was about Danny's kids, his reasons to live and breathe. To say he was touched would be to undercut everything roiling through his chest.

"I... wow, I really don't know what to say, Danny. Of course I'll -."

"I know your natural inclination is to say yes," Danny said, stopping Steve before he could continue. "But I just want you to take some time to think on this, okay? I appreciate you saying you would, really I do, but this isn't me asking you to watch them for a weekend. If you agree to this and you have to fulfill your legal duty, that means me and Rachel are dead. They're parents are dead, Steve. They'll be swamped with grief and you'll be the one who has to guide them through that. You'll be responsible for them.

"Grace is 15. She's done most of her growing up, but she still needs guidance. And Charlie -." Danny paused to swallow, his eyes watery. "Charlie's a little boy, Steve. He's only 6. If we die, you'll be the one to raise him. He'd barely remember me, if at all. The person he would become would not be because of me, it would be because of you.

"This is me trusting you to guide Grace. This is me telling you I trust you to raise my son. Please, think about this and if you come to the conclusion that you can't do it, that's okay, but if you do decide to accept, I need you to understand everything I'm telling you by asking this of you."

Like he so often was, Danny was right. Steve had only seen the surface level of the request, the trust he was placing in him to take care of his children were something disastrous to happen; his willingness to do anything Danny asked of him, especially when it came to the kids, overpowering all other concerns. But now that he was thinking on what Danny had asked of him, he could see the seismic impact of his request.

After Danny had been shot by Ray Gardner in the quarantine room, Steve had no time to process what had happened, operating on pure instinct alone. It wasn't until he'd gone home late that night after having a quiet moment alone with Danny, Rachel, and the kids, that his mind finally wound down enough to catch up with the events of the day. At first it manifested itself as restlessness, an inability to sit down before his legs started twitching and he had to walk around for it to stop, then an all over tension that made his skin feel two sizes too small. He went for a swim to combat it, thinking it would exhaust and relax him, and it seemed at first it had. He took a quick shower and fell into bed, sleep claiming him almost immediately.

The dream started at the beginning, Gardner admitting himself into the quarantine area and having them tie themselves up. The difference here though, was that instead of shooting Danny in the lung, he shot him in the heart before shooting himself. Danny had died instantly, eyes open and gazing into nothing as Steve uselessly pressed down on the wound and screamed his name. Since there was no rush to save Danny, the bomb squad had taken their time getting them out, Steve staring vacantly at his blood soaked hands as Tani cried in the corner, Junior trying his best to calm her.

He next found himself in the nondescript waiting area, Grace and Charlie sitting in the uncomfortable chairs as he knelled before them with Rachel as she broke the news that their father was dead. Time seemed to slow as the realization hit, Charlie's face crumbling and a tear rolling down Grace's cheek, the tear darkening a spot on her light blue dress. They both turned to him then, Charlie asking why he didn't save his Danno as Grace's grief turned into anger. She screamed at him, yelling that he should've died instead of her dad before she slapped him hard across the face, the sting barely registering through his numbness.

Front row center, Steve then found himself sat beside Rachel at Danny's funeral. Family, friends, and colleagues came out in force to pay their respects, every single one of them starring accusingly at him whenever they passed. Rachel was the only one who didn't look at him as if he were the murderer, understanding swimming in her eyes as she squeezed his hand when blood started to seep into their clothes above their hearts. When the priest asked if anyone would like to come up and say a few words, Steve stood and walked over to the coffin, looking inside to see Danny lying peacefully inside. He wanted to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin one last time, but the next thing he knew, the coffin lid was slammed shut.

Steve awoke suddenly and violently from the dream, sickly sweat clinging to his skin as he trembled and shook from the shock. His eyes stung from crying and his ears were wet from tears rolling down the sides of his face. Intense nausea churned through his stomach and he barely managed to stumble his way into the bathroom before he collapsed before the toilet and threw up, only bile burning his throat since he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours.

Through the time expanse of a single dream, Steve knew what it meant to lose Danny and it had been debilitating. What Danny was trusting him to do by asking him to be Grace and Charlie's legal guardian was to not only guide them through their grief, but to be able to do that as he worked through his own. Steve knew the odds of it actually happening were slim to none, but Danny was right to make him think on the ramifications of what would happen. There was nothing in him that felt like it wanted to say no, he would do anything for Grace and Charlie, but he would give it all the thought it was due.

Lifting a hand from the steering wheel, Steve reached across the center console and clasped Danny's hand.

"Okay. I don't see myself changing my answer, but okay. I'll think about it."

Danny squeezed his hand in return. "Thank you."

Turning off the highway, Steve noted a sign denoting they were entering the town of Sierra Madre, home of Hollingsworth Hall.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the drive was largely uneventful, Steve having turned the radio to a classic rock station that Danny deemed "acceptable." Considering the state they were in, Steve was surprised that Sierra Madre had a small town feel to it, like it belonged more in middle America than a mere thirty minutes outside of LA. Vibrant purple wisteria vines lined the fences of small businesses. The houses were older, Steve even spotting a Victorian or two, and they added to the down-to-earth quality of the overall landscape. Despite being partial to Hawaii's beauty, he found himself charmed.

Hollingsworth Hall wasn't in Sierra Madre proper, but about five miles into what was technically the Angeles National Forest, the tall trees and mountains making for a dramatic background as they approached the sprawling estate. The brochure hadn't been lying when it called Hollingsworth Hall an architectural marvel, the style reminding him of the Victorians they'd passed, but leaps and bounds more ornate. After parking the Maserati in the parking lot attached to the property, Steve climbed out of the car to properly appreciate it.

The house was more colorful than most, predominately a sunset yellow color accented with green, red, and white. A porch wrapped around the front of the entire lower level, the simple balustrade and columns in contrast with the vine-like design of the spandrel and barge boards. Every window either had a grill framing its top or an ornate wood design along its edges. The three story structure was crowned by a four story turret, the turret capped with a gently sloped, conical copper roof that shined brightly in the last glimmers of daylight. There were so many unusual parts to the house that Steve thought he could stare at it all day and keep finding something new. It was certainly unique, and while he couldn't claim to be personally inclined to the style, there was no denying its magnificence. He snapped a picture and sent it to Grace, knowing she'd like to see it since she'd been showing an interest in architecture recently.

"Somebody died here."

"Danny!" Steve exclaimed with a laugh, startled away from his phone screen. Danny sometimes made observations that were so out of left field that he couldn't help but be amused.

"What!? Look at that house and tell me it doesn't look like a place where at least ten people have died under mysterious circumstances!" he replied, pointing at the house in question.

Steve couldn't suppress a scoff that sounded more like a giggle. "Just because it's old doesn't mean numerous people have died in it."

"$10 says it's haunted."

Steve gawked at Danny for a second, processing what he said. Sometimes Danny just didn't make any sense, especially when it came to his completely out of whack belief system.

"Okay, let me get this straight. You don't believe in God or ghosts, but you do believe in psychics and hauntings?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"I just - you're so..." Steve trailed off, wondering, not for the first time, how Danny's brain worked.

Danny smiled at him, apparently getting a kick out of his confusion. "Brilliant? Genius? Amazing?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of batshit, but yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better."

They exchanged an amused look before retrieving their bags from the trunk and making their way up to the house. From what he could see of the grounds, there was a smaller house that had probably once served as the help's quarters, a garden shed, a hedge maze, and several swaths of land that grew different crops and flowers. The property was perfectly framed by the forest and Steve wondered whether or not the original owner had deforested to land himself specifically for the estate. Either way, the landscape was gorgeous and he was hoping that whatever room he and Danny got faced the back so he could wake up to it in the morning.

Walking into the house, they came to stand in the foyer, the high ceiling and wood work stunning them into silence for a second as they observed the hall. The paneling on the walls and ceiling were a stained darker wood, most likely cherry, and the grand staircase seemed to go on forever, the design of the balusters winding and vine-like, much like the spandrel outside. There were portraits lining the walls, presumably of former owners of the estate.

"I'll never got bored of seeing people's first reaction to this place."

Steve looked to the young woman standing behind the check-in counter, her smile ensuring him the comment was good-natured. He smiled back and walked towards her.

"Hard not to react. It's just so... different from anything I've seen before."

"I know. I had the same reaction when I first came here as a kid," she assured him. Looking down to her name tag, he noted that her name was Luna. "Between you and me, it's always easy to tell who the would-be architects are. They kind of revolve around in place, trying to look at everything all at once. I've even had a few tear up a bit."

"Yeah, that's all very nice, uh, Luna, but let's get one thing straight," Danny said, joining him at the counter. "Is this place haunted?"

Steve looked up to the heavens, wondering who the hell he'd pissed off in a previous life to deserve Danny.

Luna seemed to perk up at the question. "Oh, yeah! We've been declared authentically haunted by the U.S. Department of Commerce since the 60's."

Danny looked up at him as if he were personally blaming him for the haunting and stuck out his hand. Steve considered arguing, but he knew there was no way Danny would relent. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten, slapping it into Danny's hand as he glared at him.

"I'm guessing you two are here for the murder mystery dinner and not the haunting," she said, clearly amused by the exchange they were having.

"That's right because I, unlike every other show on TV today, don't go looking for haunted houses in my spare time."

"Shame. I'm sure a character like you would be ratings gold," she remarked as she worked on the computer. "Name the registration is under?"

"Steve McGarrett."

"I see here you got our last reservation, lucky you. This phone has -," she said before getting interrupted by the phone ringing. Luna gave them an exasperated look and pointed at the unnecessarily complicated looking switchboard phone. "- been ringing all day."

They waited silently while she told whoever called that they were fully booked and hung up again.

"Sorry about that. Here's your keys." Luna passed them a set of old brass keys and pointed up the staircase. "You two are in room 303, a personal favorite of mine. It's a rear-facing room, so I advise waking up bright and early to watch the sunrise; it's balcony seats to paradise."

After ascending the three flights of stairs to their room, Steve and Danny agreed that they both needed to shower to get ready for the dinner, Steve taking the bathroom first. While it kept in-style with the 19th century decor, it had obviously been updated, for which he was eternally gratefully. The modern showerhead that hung over the clawfoot bathtub allowed him to adjust the pressure of the spray to the highest setting, the heavy beat of the hot water on his muscles finally relaxing him after what was an abnormally stressful day; the fact that he preferred getting shot at to giving a speech not lost on him. Knowing his risked Danny razing him for not taking his usual three minute Navy shower, he stood under the spray until he felt he was something close to approaching normal.

Quickly finishing his usual routine, Steve slipped on his boxer briefs and walked out of the bathroom. With barely a glance at him, Danny picked up his bathroom tote and garment bag and traded places with him. Steve had long ago accepted that Danny wasn't interested in him, but that didn't mean his lack of interest didn't occasionally sting. Sometimes he found it funny, like when he walked out of the ocean after a swim, soaking wet with his swim trunks clinging to him almost obscenely, and Danny would roll his eyes and throw a towel at him. Sometimes he found it sad, like when he'd purposefully been showing off and Danny would turn away from him, telling him to join the rest of the human race and put some clothes on. And then there were times, much like the present, when it just fucking irritated him. He would find himself annoyed with Danny and his apparent inability to even give him so much as an appreciative once over before he would stop himself, reminded that he was the one with the problem, not Danny. He gave himself a moment to feel bad for himself before tucking it away in a corner of his mind so he could continue getting ready. Danny reemerged from the bathroom as he was tying his shoes.

"Look at you," Danny said, followed by a whistle. "Never let it be said you don't clean up nicely."

Steve smiled at the compliment. Looking up, it took him a second to recognize the shirt Danny was rolling the sleeves up on, but when he did, he felt his smile widen. Before he could say something, Danny beat him to it.

"You like? I've been looking for an excuse to wear it and this seemed like as good a time as any. I didn't want to wear it to work; can't risk it falling victim to the McGarrett Effect."

Ignoring the jab that he was somehow responsible for destroying so many of Danny's shirts (he still has no idea if Danny was serious or not when he tried to add Wardrobe Reimbursement to Five-0's budget), Steve felt whatever residual bitterness he felt minutes before melt away. 

It was about two weeks before Christmas when Lynn had dragged him to the mall so she could pick out a dress for the holiday party her social service center was throwing and he'd been bored out of his mind. While she was trying on her selections in the dressing room, Steve wandered over to the men's section to pass the time. He roamed aimlessly through the rows of clothes for several minutes until he found himself in the designer section. Just as he was about to turn around and wander somewhere else, a shirt on a mannequin caught his attention. It was dark blue with a floral pattern on it, the flowers small and unobtrusive, but interesting. He found himself wondering what Danny would look like in it and when a sales associate came around asking if he'd like to try it on, he found himself giving Danny's measurements.

Lynn had been irritated with him for leaving her to her own devices in the dressing room and not helping her pick a dress, but she became angry when she found out that he'd spent his time picking out a shirt for Danny instead. She reminded Steve that he had already bought him a Christmas present and his insistence that he hadn't been looking for anything, that he just saw the shirt and thought of Danny, only seemed to make her angrier. She said that she was sick and tired of competing with Danny for Steve's attention and feeling like she was losing the battle. Steve tried explaining that there was no battle to be fought, but when Lynn caught sight of the $300 receipt, that seemed to be the final straw. She pointed out that he spent more on a shirt for Danny than he had on their last three dates combined and he retorted that it was a fluke, that he'd never even spent that much on himself. He thought that would settle the argument, show that it was a special occasion, but instead, she seemed to deflate and stared at him with something that looked alarmingly like pity. She told him she hoped Danny liked the shirt before she walked out the door without another word. He didn't hear from her for a month.

Seeing Danny in the shirt, and clearly loving it, made the whole debacle worth it.

"I'm glad I got your measurements right."

Danny scoffed at him. "That's the best you got? 'I'm glad I got your measurements right?' You really know how to charm a man, Smooth Dog."

Steve bristled at the use of the nickname and Danny's sarcastic tone, making it perfectly clear that he still thought the nickname had been given to him as a joke.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me I'm as gorgeous as the day you met me."

"Fine," he said through a laugh, Danny's teasing expression warming him. "You're as gorgeous as the day I met you."

"That's more like it. Now come here."

Steve walked over to him, Danny picking pieces of lint off the shoulders and back of his black button-up. Only after he deemed him presentable did they walk downstairs to the dining hall, a massive room filled with round dinner tables and quite possibly the largest fireplace he'd ever seen. People were already milling about, accepting drinks and hors d'oeuvres from waiters, talking amongst themselves. He recognized Commander Holloway of the RCMP from their presentation speaking to, whom he presumed, was her partner across the room. Steve was about to ask Danny if he wanted to go over and say hi, but a woman in a purple corset Victorian dress announced that it was time for them to find their seats.

Danny found their seats at a corner table, their vantage point giving them a good view of the whole room. Steve was watching the other pairs find their seats when he saw Danny stand up out of the corner of his eye.

"Chief Kingston?" Danny said, sounding thrilled and walking around the table to greet an older gentleman with snow white hair and a stern expression. He reminded Steve of some of Joe White's old Navy buddies. "I had no idea you'd be here. How the hell are you?"

"Sergeant Williams. It's good to see you."

Danny hugged him and after a second, Kingston responded by wrapping an arm around him. Once they parted, Danny pointed at Steve and he stood, walking around the table for introductions.

"Chief, this is Commander Steve McGarrett, my partner and the reason my life insurance premium is through the roof." 

Steve spared a moment to mouth "ha ha" at Danny before shaking Kingston's hand.

"Kingston was was my captain back in the day in Newark." Danny gripped Kingston's arm, his smile practically beaming. "Took me under his wing when everyone else said I was too difficult to work with."

"Shocking, that people thought you were difficult to work with," Steve said sarcastically, then turned to Kingston with a smile. "Care to share any of your wisdom on how to control him when he gets more than a little contrary?"

"That was actually everyone's error. You can't control him, only contain the fallout." Kingston huffed a laugh. "But I can't lie and say he wasn't a handful. Playing fast and loose with the rules, having a little too much fun interrogating suspects, property damage. Would you believe that this guy once cost the city $500,000 because we had to reimburse a church for a busted stained glass window when he broke through it in pursuit of a suspect?"

Steve stared agog at Danny, making it perfectly clear that he was calling him out on his hypocrisy, especially in their early days. Like he knew he would, Danny blushed, but hurried to explain himself.

"Okay, in my defense, I was in pursuit of a serial killer and, because I apprehended him when I did, we were able to save the woman trapped in his basement," he started, gaining his footing on his defense even though Steve and Kingston were smirking. "And Steve is leaps and bounds worse than I ever was. If half our cases weren't ultimately classified, I could tell you all about the times he nearly burned down half the island."

"Sounds like you two are a match made in hell."

The three laughed at the observation until a man came over and awkwardly stood outside the little group they formed. When Kingston saw him, he pulled him into the group and introduced him.

"Gentlemen, this is Detective Tony Sorrentino, youngest on the force. I brought him because, much like I did with Williams, I've taken him under my wing. Tony, this is Commander Steve McGarrett and Detective Sergeant Danny Williams, now of Five-0."

Steve and Danny shook hands with Sorrentino, who had the bright eyed look of someone who hadn't been jaded by the world just yet. He was obviously young, with a modern pompadour hairstyle and clothes that, while professional, were clearly _en tendance_. His black hair, brown eyes, and tan skin spoke strongly to his Italian heritage and Steve, in mutual agreement with several women who were casting furtive glances at Sorrentino, thought he was almost annoyingly attractive. If the man's jawline was any stronger, he could sharpen his knives on it.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Sorrentino said to Danny, his smile bright and real. "I've heard so much about you and the general consensus is that I have some pretty big shoes to fill."

Steve felt a stab of irritation as he watched Danny trail his eyes down to Sorrentino's feet and then glance up with an amused smirk.

"I'm sure you're doing just fine."

"Oh, he's being modest," Kingston insisted. "He's good at doing the ground work, but where he shines is at the computer. He's a wizard with technology, it's incredible to watch what he can do with our new smart table."

"You're a tech expert?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, but don't let this guy fool you," he said, pointing at Kingston. "I learned everything I know from him."

Kingston frowned. "I really only taught him how to avoid getting shot."

"That is very true. I'm very fond of not getting shot."

"So am I, which adds insult -," Danny said as he pointed at his chest, right where Gardner shot him. "- to this injury."

Sorrentino reached out and gripped Danny's shoulder. "Oh my god, you were shot? I'm so sorry to hear that."

"As am I, but it looks like the fine people of King's took good care of you."

Before Danny could reply to Kingston, the woman in the purple Victorian corset asked the room at large to take their seats so she could go over the rules. Kingston and Sorrentino sat across the table from them and another pair, a man and a woman, also joined their table. As Steve watched everyone around him sitting down, he leaned back in his chair and draped his arm along the back of Danny's, Danny moving himself so Steve's arm rested comfortably and he didn't have to hold it in place. Steve squeezed his arm in thanks.

"Well, first thing's first. My name is Charlotte and I'm going to be your guide this evening," she announced, polite applause greeting her. "Thank you all for deciding to participate in our Murder Mystery Night here at Hollingsworth Hall. We are so thrilled that so many of the world's finest are going to be spending an evening with us putting their skills to the test. Now, because we know that all of you who signed up are in law enforcement, we decided to step up our game a little to accommodate your heightened ability, starting with the fact that from the moment you entered the property, the mystery began."

Everyone started glancing around the room curiously, scanning the walls and ceiling, some craning their necks to look out the windows.

"Throughout the evening, additional clues pertaining to this case will be dropped, even as we continue to present new cases." Charlotte was moving between the tables as she spoke, her ominous tone enchanting the room, all eyes following her as she continued. "It's your job to distinguish which clues pertain to which cases and to present your findings once you think you've solved them. It should also be noted that not everyone in this room is in law enforcement; many of you are actors participating in our little charade."

The curious glances many of the cops had been casting about the room immediately turned suspicious, no longer looking at their surroundings but at the people in the room. Steve himself wasn't immune either; he started cataloging the people at the nearby tables and found himself on the receiving end of some suspicious looks. With one line, Charlotte had turned the room upside down.

"If you think you've solved a case, please stand and get my attention so you can present your evidence. If you are correct, you will receive a clue pertaining to the original case. If you're not, well, we may just stick you in the cellar for the evening." She laughed to show she was just kidding, but Steve could feel Danny grow stiff beside him. Just the idea of being trapped in a claustrophobic place was enough freak him out sometimes. Steve rubbed Danny's shoulder reassuringly. "Any questions? No? Then let the dinner begin."

Waiters came out and served the first course, which was a lobster bisque, the claw standing in the center of the bowl. The spicy edge to the creamy soup made the potentially bland dish delicious and Steve found he had finished his bowl at a far quicker pace than the rest of the table, leaving him some time to converse with the other pair of partners at the table, Detectives Lisa Gonzaga and Grayson Leoni from Florida. They were both on the more reserved side, but were happy enough to joke about Florida stereotypes when he brought up a recent story he read about a guy who got bit in the butt by a snake while he was on the toilet. The brief convo didn't enable him to rule them out as actors or not.

The next course was an arugula salad with _Parmigiano-Reggiano_. Steve saw Danny frown at the salad but he was relieved to see it. He didn't like having a heavy dinner without something lighter to offset it, like a salad or fruit bowl. Steve flicked an arugula leaf at Danny just for the pleasure of watching him gear up to yell at him, only to remember where he was and have settle for saying obscenities under his breath.

By the time the entrée came out, Steve was more than ready to get to the more substantial part of the meal. They were served braised rosemary lamb shank in a bed of garlic mashed potatoes with a side of roasted baby carrots. While Steve was fond of carrots, he knew Danny was not, and sure enough, he rotated his plate so his carrots were close to Steve and tapped his fork twice against the rim of the plate.

Within a few weeks of meeting each other, Steve and Danny came to the realization that they both had a strange relationship with food. While Steve was the type to eat too fast and try to eat everything in sight, having unpleasant memories from his days as a SEAL when he was on a mission and had tightly controlled proportions that weren't nearly big enough, Danny was the type to guard his food like his life depended on it because he grew up with siblings who would steal off his plate. The first time Steve had tried to nab something off Danny's plate, Danny had smacked his hand and ranted at him for five minutes straight about being an uncivilized animal. But, much like everything else about them, even though their views clashed, they found a way to accommodate each other.

If Steve finished before Danny, which was usually the case, Danny would portion off some of his plate for Steve if he knew he wasn't going to finish everything. He would tap his plate twice to let Steve know he could pick at the portion or, if it was something that was already established between them as something Danny didn't like, to eat all of whatever it was. With the exception of a few hiccups, their system worked flawlessly.

Steve bumped Danny's arm with his elbow in thanks and took his first carrot. As he was chewing it, he saw that someone at the next table over was watching him out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see who it was and when he did, the man gave him a look so loaded with contempt Steve was momentarily stunned by it. Steve could tell that some of the people in the room were still looking around at each other critically, wondering who was an actor and who was a legitimate cop, but that was not what the man had been doing. He thought about telling Danny, but he was looked so happy chatting with Kingston and Sorrentino that he didn't have the heart to interrupt.

Once the entrées were cleared, the dessert was brought out by none other than Charlotte herself. It was a rosewater _panna cotta_ with an edible flower on top, the color of the flower varying from person to person. Steve's was blue and just as he noted Danny's was purple, Danny jumped up, a gleam in his eye.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked, even though Danny was already making his way around the table.

"You'll see."

"Danny!"

"You'll see!"

Steve waved a dismissive hand at him, knowing he picked up the gesture from Danny and resenting it. He watched as Danny moved through the tables, curious eyes following him as he looked back, equally curious. Steve also noticed a black man with a distinctive low fade hair cut doing the same thing, he and Danny casting each other a knowing, challenging look before continuing on their respective paths. The black man ducked out of the room and as Danny finished his rotation he came over to Steve and craned his head at the table closest to the fireplace.

"Watch that table for me. If anyone starts acting odd, let me know," he whispered in his ear.

"What am I looking for? Odd how?" Steve whispered back, playing along with the secrecy.

"You'll know if you see it. Just pay attention until I get back."

"But Danny -," Steve started, but Danny was already heading for the same exit the black man had gone through.

Deciding to keep himself occupied, Steve started up a conversation with Sorrentino about his favorite places to eat in Newark to get intel on how good the places Danny liked actually were, but he wasn't able to get far until Danny was marching back into the room looking grim. With no preamble, he gripped the front of Steve's shirt and leaned in to whisper, "Come with me." Steve knew better than to argue with that tone and followed him, having no idea what happened but knowing he needed to be ready for it.

Walking around the side of the house where the parking lot was located, Danny led him through the rows of cars until they got to... the body of the black man who had walked out not two minutes before Danny, lying on the pavement, his neck at an unnatural angle.

"Is he dead?" Steve asked, alarmed as he moved towards the body.

"Very," Danny confirmed, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. "I thought it was one of the cases being presented until I got closer and saw who it was and the angle his neck was at."

After finding no pulse, Steve reached into his pocket. "We need to call this in."

"No signal."

"That's not possible," he responded, remembering that he'd sent Grace a picture of the house. After he unlocked his phone though, he saw Danny was right. It wasn't that the bars were low, or even that they were kicked down to 3G; he had nothing, not even Wi-Fi coming in. "What the fuck?"

"We need to go use the landline," Danny said, his tone absent, like he was talking to himself. "Something's wrong. I don't like this."

Steve could practically see the wheels turning in Danny's head. "What are you thinking?"

Before Danny could respond, Steve saw a woman running towards them, her eyes focused on the body.

"Fortsafe!" she yelled, falling to her knees beside his body, oblivious to Steve at his other side. "Cam. Cam! Oh, god."

Steve could already see tears falling down her cheeks and he averted his eyes, unable to handle the grief already clouding her features. He reached out a hand and gently laid it on her arm, trying to comfort her as she cried over his body. They stayed like that for at least a minute until he felt her stiffen and stand up, quickly wiping away the tears streaking her face.

"Who did this?" she asked, an undercurrent of anger breaking through her watery tone. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Danny said. "Between the time he walked out here and when I found him couldn't have been more than two, three minutes max."

She looked around and wiped at her nose, trying to erase the signs of her crying. Steve didn't know her, but he recognized the expression she got whenever she glanced at the dead body. This was something that she wasn't going to get over for a long time, if ever. He found it suddenly difficult to look at Danny.

"What were you doing out here?" she asked once she composed herself again.

"Same reason he was." When she continued to look at him with a look that screamed 'And!?' he elaborated. "Looking at the flowers." Steve joined her in looking at him with the same expression and Danny looked back at them as if they were the ones who were clueless. "For the case. That's why we were both walking around the room and then came out here. He was thinking the same thing I was."

She stared at Danny for several seconds, sizing him up and judging if she trusted what she saw, and Danny looked back, allowing her the intrusion. Whatever she was looking for, she evidently found because she relaxed and nodded to herself.

"Where are you here from?"

"Hawaii," Danny answered and Steve felt something tug on his heartstrings hearing him say that. "Detective Danny Williams and he's Commander Steve McGarrett. We're Five-0."

"Ah, I've heard about you guys. The great law enforcement experiment. I'm sorry I didn't get to see your presentation but Cam...," she trailed off. After a few seconds, she continued, gesturing to herself. "Lieutenant Hilkka Takashio, by way of the Navy. And before you ask, my father was Japanese and my mother was Namibian, hence the name." Takashio paused for a moment. "His name was Cam Fortsafe. We've been partners for three years here in LA."

Silence settled between them until Takashio took a hairband off her wrist to tie back her braids.

"I'm assuming you've already called this in."

"Yeah, about that," Steve said, unlocking his phone and turning it to her, the light shining on her face when she looked at the screen. "We've got no signal; not even 3G."

"Maybe your phone plan doesn't allow roaming."

"No. We travel all the time, I had to get a plan with roaming. Not to mention that wouldn't explain why we're not receiving Wi-Fi either."

Takashio took her phone out of a pocket in her gold dress, which surprised Steve. He didn't know dresses could have pockets. She frowned at what she saw.

"That doesn't make any sense. How could we have nothing? I was just using my phone a few hours ago when we first got here."

"So was I, but -," was as far as Steve got before Danny exclaimed, "Oh, fuck no!" and started running towards their Maserati. On auto-pilot, Steve ran after him, Takashio hot on his heels even though he now knew she was wearing high heels.

Danny pointed at the door as he ran to the front of the car. "Get the hood release!"

"What? Why?" Steve asked, even as he pulled his keys out to unlock the door.

Danny ignored him in favor of pointing at Takashio. "Open the hood of a car."

"Which car?"

"It doesn't matter which one just fucking do it."

Takashio seemed to take his harsh tone in stride and leaned into a convertible to pull the hood release of the next car over as Steve pulled on the hood release in their car, popping the hood. Danny seemed to immediately know what he was looking for because he slammed his fist against the car and shouted, "Fuck!"

"Oh, hell," Takashio said, quietly but equally as alarmed as she looked at the engine of the car she had popped the hood on.

Steve peered at the engine of the Maserati and felt his blood run cold when he saw the top of the fuse box broken off and fuses missing from inside. Scrapes on the car near where the latch was located told him that whoever did it jimmied the latch to get to it.

"You got the same thing?" he called over to Takashio.

"If you're referring to the very conspicuous absence of fuses, then yeah, I got the same thing."

He could tell that she was going for sarcastic but fell short. Steve turned to Danny who had his back turned to him, hands on his hips.

"Danny, how did you know the fuses would be missing?"

"When you were talking to Takashio, I saw scrapes on several cars like the ones we have on ours." He turned back around to address him and Takashio, who was back at his side. "My money is on every car having their fuses missing. I think Fortsafe saw whoever did this and they killed him for it."

Steve felt a chill as the pieces came together; the cars, no cell signal, no Wi-Fi.

"They're isolating us."

Danny nodded in agreement. "Somebody's going to die... it's the only reason to go through all this."

"Fortsafe was just an innocent bystander," Takashio observed, despondent. "He wasn't meant to die; he just came out at the wrong time."

For lack of anything to say, knowing nothing would assuage the wound Fortsafe's senseless death would leave her with, Steve stayed quiet and thought of some way he could get help.

"No."

Steve looked over at Danny. "No what?"

"I know that look," he said, waving his hand in the direction of his face. "I hate that look. It means you're thinking of something heroic and stupidly dangerous."

"Danny, we need to get help," he explained slowly and condescendingly. He knew it was the easiest way to piss Danny off and it was when he was well and truly pissed that he was easier to bulldoze over, if for no other reason than because Danny didn't want to lose his cool and punch him. "If we don't get any, we're isolated here until somebody comes looking for one of us or an employee shows up for their shift."

"Oh, that's cute, Steven. You think you're gonna piss me off until I just go along with whatever nutso plan you come up with. Well, joke's on you because that's not going to work this time." Danny spread his arms and shifted his hips in a gesture Steve had come to translate as, 'Come at me, bitch.' That, and being called by his full name, spelled trouble. "Whoever did this isn't far from here and, if they're as coordinated as they seem to be, I guarantee at least one person was left behind to make sure no one escapes before the job is done."

"Then I won't follow the road! I'll navigate my way through the forest."

"This isn't Hawaii, Steve! You don't know these forests! And what equipment are you going to use, huh? You don't have any here and from what we saw driving in, it's not just a stroll in the park."

"Someone has to go and I'm the best person for the job."

"You're the _worst_ person for the job! What makes you so sure it's not _you_ that's supposed to die here tonight? If it is, I promise you that they know your propensity for playing the martyr and are ready to cap your ass the second you're alone out there!"

Steve, in full swing with the argument, was ready to retort when Takashio interrupted them.

"How long have you two been married?"

In unison, they both turned to her and yelled, "Eight years!"

Takashio had been wearing a teasing expression, but at their response, her expression became curious.

"Wait, seriously?"

Danny sighed. "No, but we're opening a restaurant together and he insists on coming to my kid's parent teacher conferences -"

"- you don't ask enough questions."

"- so we might as well be."

She smiled at them knowingly, but thankfully let it go.

"Okay, let's talk this out rationally," she said, her voice level and non-confrontational. "We have no cell service or Wi-Fi, all the cars have been sabotaged. We're being isolated for some reason, most likely to kill at least one of the attendees of the dinner. And Steve's right, we need to get help or we don't stand a chance against whatever they've planned. Why not send Steve for help?"

Danny took a deep breath and lowered his head, which was his way of trying to calm himself. After a few more breaths, he turned to Takashio.

"Because he was an intelligence officer for the Navy, as well as a SEAL. Assuming he's the target, they may not be trying to kill him, they may be trying to kidnap him for intel. If he's not the target, they may kill him to ensure we don't get help until whoever is supposed to die, dies."

Reluctantly, Steve had to give the point to Danny. While whatever intelligence he had from his time in the Navy was obviously outdated, he wasn't devoid of valuable intel either. And to think someone may just want him dead as an act of revenge wasn't an impossibility either. He knew he still would have fought Danny if he pointed all that out during their argument, but it would have planted seeds of doubt that Danny could've exploited.

"Then why don't you go with him as back-up?"

"Absolutely not," Steve cut in before she even had the opportunity to finish. "He was shot in the lung just a few months ago. I'm not going to risk overtaxing him, or risk him unnecessarily in uncertain territory, period."

Takashio's eyebrows raised. "You were shot in the lung?" she asked Danny. "What happened? Shouldn't your tac vest have protected you?"

"Can't tell you," Danny said apologetically. "It's classified."

Steve tapped his arm to get his attention. "Admit it. It's a little fun to say that."

Danny lifted his hand and separated his index finger and thumb by no more than an inch. Steve smiled and Danny smirked back.

"We don't even know where they'd be," Takashio noted, body turned to survey the forest lining which was about a half mile away. "They could be up in the trees. We don't even know how many there are."

"Which is why Steve can't go, or any of us for that matter," Danny finished. "Whoever we sent would be on a suicide mission."

"In other words, we're fucked."

Danny nodded to her, looking grim. "Yeah, pretty much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so apparently I'm a complete dumbass and didn't realize this fic was supposed to be posted in its totality at posting so I'm posting this chapter now and posting the next chapter either tomorrow or the day after! cheers!
> 
> ps I promise I'll be getting back to those of you who have already commented, I'm just tight on time right now! you've been so great and kind and I look forward to getting back to you
> 
> pps shout out to MissSlothy for seeing my coding error and commenting the fix! you saved me quite the headache <333
> 
> thank you for your kudos, comments, critiques, angry banshee screams, or whatever you leave for me here or at my tumblr ***[mycroft-silently-judges-you](http://mycroft-silently-judges-you.tumblr.com)***

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for your kudos, comments, critiques, angry banshee screams, or whatever you leave for me here or at my tumblr ***[mycroft-silently-judges-you](http://mycroft-silently-judges-you.tumblr.com)***


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